


Take me back to the start

by Salambo06



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate ending ASIP, First Time, Fix-It, Fluff, M/M, POV John Watson, POV Sherlock Holmes, Sherlock Series 1, Smut, Tender Sex, so much feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-21
Updated: 2015-10-21
Packaged: 2018-04-27 10:55:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5045614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Salambo06/pseuds/Salambo06
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set right after ASIP.</p><p>Coming back from the crime scene, Sherlock decides he can't stay in the dark like this. Either he deals with those unexpected feelings, or he makes himself forget about John Watson entirely.  Just thinking about the second option makes him sick. No, there is only one solution here. </p><p>(Or, how ASIP should have ended).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Take me back to the start

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to  The Vanishing Twin for the comments and corrections !  
> The title comes from the Coldplay song, [The scientist ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RB-RcX5DS5A/)
> 
>  
> 
> [My Tumblr](http://letthechoirsing.tumblr.com/)

When Sherlock asked John if he was hungry, Lestrade was still watching them. Sherlock seemed to be certain nobody knew that it had been John’s shot that had killed the cabbie, but Lestrade’s stare concerned John. Sherlock was already walking away from the crime scene, though, and John shook off his worry. He couldn’t help but smile while going after him. He had still trouble believing how much his life has changed overnight. Here he was, following this man he had just met – and already saved – to another adventure. Sherlock Holmes was the most interesting man he had ever met, and John Watson had met many different people during his military career: Soldiers running into battle without a hint of fear, inhabitants of foreign villages facing hardship every day. Yes, John Watson had met quite a lot of interesting people, but Sherlock Holmes has eclipsed them all in just one day. 

“Hurry up, John,” said Sherlock as they turned to the nearest Chinese restaurant. “I need to be home quickly, I have an experiment waiting in the fridge!”

“An experiment?” John inquired, trying not to beam at the word _home._

“I collected fingers from the morgue two days ago,” Sherlock began to explain, walking faster. “Molly assured me they all belong to men killed while eating at the same fast-food place. The original reports said that they died from poisoning, but nobody was able to determine how the poison entered the body.” Sherlock paused his monologue, causing John to stop walking and face him. Sherlock’s eyes were shining with excitement, his lips stretching into a smile John was starting to like more and more. 

“And you have a theory, I’m sure,” John replied.

“I’m quite sure the food they were eating had something to do with it,” Sherlock explained.

“And you’re studying their fingers and not their stomach?”

Sherlock’s smile grew wider as he resumed walking towards the restaurant. “Even you must know that the police are not that stupid, they already checked the food. What they didn’t think of was to check the packaging. If I’m right a certain fast-food company will be facing some serious charges.”

Without another word Sherlock opened the restaurant door and held it for John to come in. As soon as they entered the establishment John was brought back to their previous dinner. John could still remember Sherlock’s gaze on him, the way his eyes seemed to read John like an open book. Their conversation had been more than awkward and John was still not sure if Sherlock had believed him when he had assured him he hadn’t been asking him out. Of course he had been flirting with him, how could he not with a man as stunning as Sherlock in front of him? 

But Sherlock had been more than clear on the subject. _I’m married to my work._ John knew any further flirting or questions would not help, but even now John couldn’t take his eyes away from Sherlock’s body. Standing in the queue, Sherlock was reading the menu, his lips moving rapidly, but John couldn’t hear a word. He was lost in the lines of Sherlock’s face, the sharp cheekbones and full lips that John craved to touch and explore. When he noticed Sherlock was making grand gestures with those perfect hands, frowning at the menu, he forced himself to pay attention to what Sherlock was saying. 

“The noodles are usually good but I don’t feel like eating noodles today. Maybe a soup. John?”

“Whatever you like, I don’t mind,” John replied absently, looking at the people around them. 

Sherlock turned back to the cashier and ordered their dinner to go. Baker Street was nearby and they could be home quickly. The walk to 221B was quiet, Sherlock apparently lost in his mind. John was more than happy for the break. He needed to regain some control of himself before they found themselves alone again. 

Mrs Hudson seemed to be already asleep when they arrived, and as soon as they entered the flat Sherlock went to the fridge for his experiment. Dividing the food over two plates, John placed one in front of the microscope and took his own to the living room. Soon the only sound in the apartment came from the telly. John put on a mindless TV show and he watched it without really paying attention. The events of the night were still all John could think of. Sherlock’s deductions in the cab, his attitude in front of the body, his excitement, and, once again, the way he had seen through John at Angelo’s. John could still hear their laughter after the chase across London, Sherlock’s smile and the tension filling the small corridor when John tried to regain his breath. 

_Christ, I need to get it together._

It would have been so easy to just kiss Sherlock’s smile away. 

_No, stop. Stop now._

John turned his attention back to the TV and finished his plate quickly. He needed to take a shower and go to sleep. Who knew what the great Sherlock Holmes had planned for them tomorrow. John found he couldn’t wait to come with Sherlock again, and he let his head fall back on the couch, closing his eyes just for a minute. He had to pull himself together. It wouldn’t do to ruin what seemed to be the beginning of a good - or even wonderful - friendship with a silly crush. He needed a friend more than anything right now and John was perfectly able to shut down his desire. Even if the subject of this desire was the unreachable Sherlock Holmes. Yes, it would be fine. 

Everything would be just fine.

*

Sherlock could tell the moment John fell asleep.

John’s body was relaxed and Sherlock could see his chest rising regularly. Letting go of his microscope Sherlock allowed himself to let his guard down for a minute, closing his eyes with a sigh. He had been more than careful the entire day, making sure the man asleep on his sofa would not leave. For the first time in a long time Sherlock had paid attention to another person’s reaction all day. John had been a surprise since their meeting at Barts, at first a simple puzzle but then so much more. An ex-army doctor, with a limp and with trust issues and still here he was, asleep in Sherlock’s living room.

Opening his eyes, Sherlock looked back at John. Since their first cab ride together and John’s comments on his deduction Sherlock had had the urge to impress him. He had deduced the woman in pink’s life as fast as he could manage, with as many details as possible. John’s _amazing!_ had been the most wonderful reward at the time. Not having felt this way for a long time Sherlock had to admit their conversation at Angelo had frightened him. John’s way of asking about his personal life, like it was much more interesting than the murderer they were waiting for, had affected Sherlock in a way he still couldn’t understand. 

Sherlock was certain John had been flirting with him, his lip-licking giving him away despite the evasiveness. But at the same time Sherlock couldn’t seem to trust his own judgment around John. Maybe he had just imagined the meaning behind those gestures and John was only trying to get to know him better. Wasn’t that what people usually did when they were going to live together?

Standing up Sherlock put the fingers back in the fridge. He hadn’t been paying attention to the experiment since their return from the crime scene anyway. He couldn’t stop remembering the way John had looked all day, Sherlock’s mind palace already full of data. Sherlock frowned as a shiver ran through him, the image of John leaning against the wall out of breath and laughing coming back to him. Sherlock could still perfectly picture John’s flushed face and the way John’s smile had capture Sherlock’s interest. He recalled how he almost leant into John to kiss the man senseless. The urge had taken Sherlock by surprise, and he couldn’t believe he had managed to straighten up at the last moment. 

This problem needed to be dealt with as soon as possible.

If Sherlock couldn’t think properly or even work, then he had to find a solution right now. Either he made himself forget about John Watson, asking John to move out and deleting the last two days. Or he stopped running away and confronted John. Sherlock considered the first option for a moment, but watching the sleeping doctor, Sherlock realised there was no way he could ask John to move out. His chest tightened and Sherlock stood up again, walking to his chair. Even just one day with John had proven how much Sherlock needed him. He had to find a way and confront the problem at the source, make things clear between them before it became too complicated. Sherlock studied all possible plans, all schemes and strategies that could lead to fixing the issue. At least seven ideas crossed his mind, but all of them required time and effort Sherlock didn’t have the strength for right now. No, he had only one option here. 

Sherlock walked towards his roommate, sat next to him and let his hand rest on John’s knee. 

“John.”

John stirred a little but didn’t wake.

“John,” came Sherlock voice again, louder.

“What is it?” John mumbled. 

“I need you to wake up,” Sherlock explained calmly.

“I’m awake.” It was obviously not true, his eyes were still shut and Sherlock could tell John hadn’t yet realised Sherlock’s hand was resting on his knee. 

“I changed my mind,” was all Sherlock said, hoping it would get John’s attention.

“About what, Sherlock?” 

Sherlock rolled his eyes, John’s state of sleepiness becoming more and more annoying.

“About our conversation at Angelo’s!” That should wake him up.

John’s eyes shot open and he stared directly at Sherlock’s hand on his knee. Carefully Sherlock removed it, wanting to have John’s full attention on him. “I lied to you back then,” he began to explain. 

“You lied?” John breathing was quickening now and he swallowed loudly as Sherlock took a deep breath. 

“I was never married,” declared Sherlock abruptly, not really knowing what he was doing. After all, sentiment had been banned from his life for so long, Sherlock was not even sure how he would be able to handle any of the consequences of this conversation. 

“Sorry, what?” 

Sherlock had to repress the frustrated sigh that almost escaped him. Clearly John was still confused with sleep.

“I told you I considered myself married to my work,” Sherlock explained, his eyes still fixed on John’s. “I lied.”

“I see,” John replied carefully, “and you needed to tell me this right now?”

“I just thought that if I confessed my lie, you would confess yours.” That was it. For the first time in decades, Sherlock’s future depended on someone else’s choice entirely. 

“What makes you think I lied to you?” John asked, his voice a whisper. 

Sherlock didn’t answer but he rested his hand on John’s forearm this time. John’s eyes darted to it for a second, his breath getting caught in his throat. _This is the moment of truth,_ Sherlock thought as John looked back at him, _either we embark into the unknown or he leaves._

“I…,” John stumbled before losing his voice. “I actually didn’t lie to you. I really meant it was all fine.”

Sherlock fought the urge to close his eyes. He shut down his every emotion. John couldn’t realise how much Sherlock expected from this conversation, how much the situation was affecting him. Maybe if John thought it didn’t change things between them, then he would still stay at 221B. Getting ready to stand up Sherlock removed his hand but John stopped him. 

“You don’t understand,” John was smiling now, a smile that spread to his eyes, “That’s a good thing. ”

“Oh,” was all Sherlock could respond. He searched John’s face, scanned his every feature and didn’t find a hint of hesitation. 

“Yes.” John looked at their joined hands. “And I think I’ve made it pretty clear I’m quite attracted to you.”

Sherlock continued to stare at him, processing John’s declaration. John’s hand was warm on Sherlock’s and he could feel John’s thumb caressing it slowly. John was still smiling, not breaking the contact and Sherlock felt a rush of relief running through his body. All the tension he accumulated during the day, the countless times he craved for more contact, all of a sudden it all became possible. 

Everything he wanted, right within Sherlock’s reach. 

Sherlock cupped John’s face with his free hand, not wanting to let go of John’s hand yet. He stilled for a second, searching John’s eyes, and finally allowed himself to smile back. John truly wanted him and Sherlock felt like he could burst into either laughter or tears. Both options made him sick with worry and excitement at the same time. Sherlock’s face must’ve been showing his every emotion because John moved his right hand to Sherlock’s back, sending shivers to Sherlock’s muscles as John caressed it tenderly. 

“It’s alright,” John murmured, and Sherlock closed his eyes. 

Sherlock leant in and his lips came to rest just above John’s left ear. He could almost taste John’s skin and Sherlock instantly knew the smell would stay with him for the rest of his days. 

“I thought about kissing you a lot today,” Sherlock whispered, feeling more courageous now that John couldn’t see his face.

“Really?” John’s voice was already rougher, the hand on Sherlock’s back clutching at his shirt when Sherlock’s tongue tasted the warm skin behind John’s ear. 

“Oh yes. You against the wall downstairs, the adrenaline still rushing through your veins. Your lips were calling for mine.” Sherlock’s lips move to John neck, kissing every bit of skin he could reach. John’s hand, making his way to Sherlock’s arse, pushed lightly and soon Sherlock was sitting directly on John’s growing erection. 

“God, Sherlock,” John gasped. “I wanted to kiss you the moment you deduced all those things about me in the cab.”

Sherlock raised his head, suddenly feeling as if he could face anything, and smiled at John. “But you chose to call me extraordinary instead.”

“Well, I had to say something. It really was extraordinary.”

John smiled, licking his lips, Sherlock’s eyes following the movement. John let go of Sherlock’s hand. Sherlock frowned at the change, but John was circling his waist instead, keeping him close. Sherlock let his tongue trace John’s jaw and left small kisses on each cheek. John’s fingers were digging into Sherlock’s side, and Sherlock kissed John’s neck before grinding his bottom against John’s crotch. John let his head fall back and Sherlock attacked the offered throat right in front of him.

“Sherlock,” John breathed, his hands grounding Sherlock’s arse against his erection, trying to get more and more contact. Sherlock whimpered, his own erection growing harder. 

It had been years since Sherlock had sex for the last time, and even then it hadn’t been for Sherlock’s own desire. Sex had always been a matter of getting things, of dealing with the boredom. Uni had taught Sherlock everything anyone needed to know about sex, and even if it had made him feel pleasure and contentment, sex had never been important enough for him to become a daily purpose. 

But hearing John’s rough breathing, listening to his silent moan, feeling John’s body move under him, and knowing it was all because of him, well, Sherlock was beginning to realise he may not actually have known what sex truly could be like. 

Sherlock left a final mark on John’s neck and then aimed for his lips. He stopped at the last moment. Their foreheads rested against each other, and both of them breathed the same air. Sherlock felt John’s hand descend on his body and slowly Sherlock closed the distance between them. At first the kiss was just a small touch of lips, as if any movement could break what was happening. One of John’s hands settled in Sherlock’s hair and Sherlock resumed undulating his lips ever so lightly. Tilting his head to get a better angle, John captured his lower lip before indulging in the same treatment to the other. It was all so soft and slow that Sherlock could not breathe properly. He could feel every square inch of John’s mouth on his and he placed a hand on John’s neck, applying more pressure into the kiss. 

John reacted immediately and his tongue came to nip at Sherlock’s lips. He let John lick and gently bite at his mouth before letting him in. John’s taste was even better than he imagined and Sherlock slid their tongues against each other. The hand on his hair pulled gently and they separated just to breathe. Sherlock didn’t know who leant in first, but John was kissing again and he seemed to never want to stop. Sherlock had lost track of time entirely when John’s hips bucked into his arse more firmly. 

“Christ, Sherlock,” John moaned, the words getting lost in the kiss.

Sherlock felt John tugging his shirt out of his trousers and a warm hand came in contact with his bare skin. He wrapped his arms around John’s torso and brought their bodies even closer. 

“Need you,” Sherlock gasped as he continued to thrust against John’s lap. Sherlock was overwhelmed by John’s every reaction and he needed to store all of them before it all ended. He wanted to memorise every sound coming out of John’s mouth, the way his hand was stroking his back, his erection against Sherlock’s arse. Everything was making Sherlock’s arousal more and more intense, and he felt on the edge of combusting. 

“We should move to your bedroom before neither of us can walk properly.” John’s voice was full of lust and Sherlock had to close his eyes to regain some control.

Getting to his feet, Sherlock took John’s hand and led them to his room. He already missed John’s kisses and touches. Sherlock stumbled on several books on the floor and John’s arm caught him at the last moment. They both stayed still for a second, Sherlock’s chest rising rapidly before bursting into giggles in the middle of the kitchen. John brought Sherlock’s body back towards his and pushed Sherlock against the nearest wall, taking back his mouth. John groaned into the kiss, locking their hips together in a torturous movement. 

“John… John!” 

“Bedroom,” John only replied. He was working on Sherlock’s shirt, the first few buttons already undone. “Now!”

Sherlock whimpered as he let his head rest on the wall. The mere thought of letting go of John’s body again made Sherlock’s stomach ache. He knew they needed to do this in a bed; even he recognised a first time needed to be special and done properly. 

“Yes, we need–”

John didn’t let him finish, his mouth back on Sherlock’s. He led them to the bedroom, Sherlock walking backwards until his back hit the door. Sherlock opened it without looking. “Finally!” John grinned. 

As soon as they entered the room Sherlock pinned him against the door, his hands attacking John’s jumper. He took care of it quickly and at last Sherlock was able to explore John’s bare torso. He began to trail kisses over John’s skin. Stopping at one of John’s nipples, Sherlock tugged at John’s zipper and slowly the trousers made their way to the floor. John’s hand pushed on Sherlock’s head, encouraging him as Sherlock nabbed at John’s nipples. Sherlock played with the hardening bud for a moment before moving to the other one, enjoying the moans that escaped John every time his teeth grazed against it. When John’s hips began to thrust into the air, Sherlock took a step back and let his eyes detail all of John’s body, stopping on the impressive erection not so well hidden by a pair of black pants. He could see the erect shaft, the tip almost coming out of the waistband. Sherlock licked his lips and he heard more than he saw John whimpering, his head hitting the door as he closed his eyes.

“Christ, Sherlock… Your turn,” John declared as he stepped closer. Half of Sherlock’s shirt buttons were already undone and John quickly finished the job. “I want to see you, all of you.” His hands were on Sherlock’s trousers and Sherlock was certain they weren’t going to make it to the bed. “I want to feel you.” 

Sherlock’s eyes were still travelling over John’s body, committing every detail to memory. John licked his lips and once again the movement hypnotised Sherlock. Already at Angelo’s, listening to John’s awkward questions, he had followed the tip of that very same tongue running over those thin lips. Sherlock realised now that he had wanted nothing more than to catch it, suck on it until Sherlock’s taste was all John could think of. Sherlock needed to ravish John, make him forget about all the lovers he had had, make him stay in his bed forever. 

Finally he let John push him toward the bed, his hands never leaving John’s torso, memorising it through touch. The moment he fell backwards onto the sheets, John’s body hovering above him, Sherlock knew – and accepted – he would never do without one John Watson.

*

John watched as Sherlock closed his eyes, his hands leaving John’s body to grip the bed sheets. John still couldn’t believe his luck. He had fallen asleep trying to forget about his attraction to Sherlock only to wake up finding the same – beautiful, brilliant – man telling him he wanted John just as much. To be honest John thought for a moment he was still dreaming but Sherlock’s body heat on his lap could only mean it was truly happening. John knew he could not let this chance pass by, and if Sherlock wanted him right now then he needed to enjoy the night as much as he could.

“John.” 

Sherlock’s voice was deeper now, filled with desire and John finished removing Sherlock’s trousers and pants in one swift movement. His own erection was painful and seeing Sherlock lean shaft only reinforced the desire pooling in John’s abdomen.

“I want to devour you, Sherlock.” He licked at Sherlock’s belly, his tongue travelling on the man’s skin. He could smell the strong scent of Sherlock’s arousal and John’s mouth watered. “Is that what you want?”

Sherlock only moaned his answer and John forced himself to stop. Sherlock had told him he was attracted to him and had been since their meeting, but that meeting only happened yesterday. Things were going quite rapidly John realised as he calmed down his breathing. John never was the kind of man to rush things without making sure it was clear on both sides. 

“Sherlock,” he whispered, his lips hovering above Sherlock’s ear. “Look at me.”

Sherlock cracked an eye open, his arms coming to circle John’s neck. “What is it?”

John could hear the hidden fear in Sherlock’s voice, saw the doubt that filled Sherlock’s eyes by the second. 

“I just need to be sure this is not going too fast for you.” He kissed Sherlock to reassure him. “I don’t want to go further if you’re not completely on board with it.”

Sherlock smiled against John’s lips, one of his hands caressing John’s hair. “I thought it was pretty clear I want you.”

“Oh, I can both see and feel that.” John pushed his hips against Sherlock, just once, Sherlock closing his eyes in response. “But we met a day ago, and today was pretty intense. Are you sure this is what you want right now?”

“John, I wanted to kiss you all day. When you entered the lab at Barts yesterday I knew I needed to have you, even just as a friend. You need to understand that I don’t usually engage in this sort of thing, but John… you,” he paused and John knew Sherlock wasn’t sure if he should go on. Tenderly John kissed him just above his upper lip, his lips not quite touching Sherlock’s. He repeated the gesture a few times, kissing Sherlock’s nose and forehead with the same reverence. He felt Sherlock’s body shivering under his, and soon Sherlock’s voice filled the room again. 

“I never felt anything like this for anyone before. You came without notice and called me amazing. You entered the chaos that is my life and eased your way through it as if it was the easiest thing in the world.” Sherlock’s hands found their way into John’s hair again, forcing John to kiss him, their tongue dancing together for a moment and John was aware it was Sherlock’s way to hide his embarrassment. He probably didn’t meant to confess this much, his speech sounding like a declaration. 

“Sherlock–” 

Sherlock’s lips stopped him. “I want to have sex with you, John, and I’ve never been surer about anything.”

“Sherlock, I don’t want it to be only a one-night thing as much as you.” Sherlock eyes widened and John smiled. “You’re not the only one who can make a deduction, genius.”

None of them moved and John could see Sherlock’s eyes studying his face. He let his eyes tell everything he was feeling and continued to smile at the man beneath him. 

“John.” His name sound like a prayer and John groaned as Sherlock jerked his hips upward, their erections brushing against each other. “John.”

Sherlock tugged at John’s pants and John got rid of them quite efficiently. He felt Sherlock shivering when the distance between their bodies was finally closed. Sherlock’s legs circled John’s waist immediately and John cried out. Both of them were breathing raggedly now and John had to shut his eyes when Sherlock shoved their hips together once more. 

“Fuck, Sherlock.”

“Yes, yes.”

John’s mouth found its place down Sherlock’s neck again and he made sure everyone would know what happened, leaving a deep purple mark on the pale skin. Sherlock’s breath hitched and he placed his hands directly on John’s bare arse, urging their movement.

“John, more,” Sherlock rasped, his head thrown back on the pillow. 

“Tell me what you want,” he breathed, his mouth never leaving his lover’s neck. “Anything.”

“I want,” his voice broke as John tilted their hips higher, “I need, god, John, your hands, your mouth, everything.”

John bite back a moan and kissed Sherlock with everything he had got. Sherlock groaned, the sound muffled by their kiss, and his hands were now tugging desperately at John’s arse. John rested his forehead against Sherlock’s, trying to catch his breath. Sherlock was watching him, his eyes shining.

“God, you’re beautiful,” John couldn’t help but wonder, his lips brushing Sherlock’s nose. 

Sherlock inhaled sharply, “John.”

“I want to taste you,” John grunted, shoving a hand down between their bodies, “right here.”

The moment John’s hand touched Sherlock’s cock, he arched his back, his nails digging into John’s back. John kissed his chin one last time before going down on him. His tongue left a trail of wet kisses on Sherlock’s skin as he got closer to his lover’s erection. Sherlock’s skin was burning and John’s lips were already wet with saliva when he reached Sherlock’s cock. 

“John!” Sherlock was begging now, twisting his fingers in John’s hair. 

John hummed before swirling his tongue around the head of Sherlock’s cock, playing with the foreskin. Sherlock went silent for a second before crying out, the sound filling both the room and John’s turned-on mind. He let his mouth work on Sherlock’s shaft, hollowing his cheeks, and he felt Sherlock’s hand on his head. Sherlock was squirming on the bed, his hands pulling John’s hair. Slowly John let his tongue lick the slit, the bitter taste of Sherlock’s precome invading his mouth, and Sherlock choked on his name. John could feel Sherlock’s desperation, his hands moving from John’s hair to the bedsheets, griping at them as he arched his back. John loved every moment of it. He felt Sherlock growing harder again and John realised Sherlock was closer to orgasm than he had thought. Sherlock almost stopped breathing and his mouth stayed open in a silent scream. John teased him for another minute before letting go. 

Sherlock’s hands fell back on the mattress and John kissed his sweaty thigh tenderly. “I love watching you like this.”

Sherlock smiled lazily, his eyes still closed. John pushed himself back on top of him and waited for Sherlock to come back to reality. He must have been really close to climax. “John, I need more.”

“What do you want?” John asked, even if he already knew what Sherlock was going to ask. He would be lying if John said he hadn’t been thinking about it too this entire time. 

Sherlock reached for John’s cock and John shuddered. “I need you in me.”

Sherlock began stroking him and John let his head rest on Sherlock’s shoulder. Sherlock’s movements were slow considering how rushed they had been before, and yet it was exactly what John needed. John was pretty certain he could come just from Sherlock’s touch.

“Yes, Sherlock, yes.”

He kissed him hard, hoping he wasn’t still dreaming.

*

Sherlock felt his heart pounding inside his chest as John kissed him once again. It seemed that John was never going to stop, and Sherlock realised he actually wouldn’t mind at all. He couldn’t believe John had just sucked him and a wave of heat washed through him just thinking about John’s tongue, his entire body aching for more contact. He craved for their bodies to become one. He needed John inside him the same way he needed air. The simple thought made his cock throb with anticipation. The few times Sherlock had sex he had always been the bottom and remembering the pleasure he had felt still made his head dizzy. He couldn’t wait for John to press into him.

“Do you have lube?”

John’s voice stopped Sherlock’s thinking and he closes his eyes, breathing out slowly.

“I think there’s some in the bathroom, under the sink.”

John kissed his chin, “I’ll get it.”

Sherlock shivered when John left the bed, his body already missing John’s. Sherlock took a deep breath. _This is really happening_. The man – amazing, wonderful, beautiful man – he had met yesterday was going to make love to him. Sherlock felt himself blush at the thought, _make love_ , and hated himself for feeling like a bloody teenager. John had told him it wasn’t a one-night stand, and Sherlock had already embarrassed himself by confessing how John had changed his world from the moment they had met. It wasn’t like him to feel like this. Relationships were always too complicated, too messy, and Sherlock had never felt the need to engage in one. How John Watson managed to upset all of Sherlock’s beliefs, Sherlock was not sure he would ever know. 

“You really are beautiful.”

Sherlock opened his eyes to observe John standing in the doorway. Sherlock smiled, not caring about how stupid he must look. Here he was, laying naked in bed waiting for a man he had only just met, and he had never felt surer about anything.

“Come back,” he whispered, one of his hands reaching for John as he approached the bed. 

“I’m so very lucky,” John breathed into his skin as he lowered his body down to Sherlock’s, “so very lucky.”

“John, _please._ ”

“I can’t believe I’m here, in this bed, with you,” John pushed Sherlock’s knees apart and ran one wet finger across Sherlock’s entrance, “I’m never going to let you leave this bed.”

Sherlock suppressed a moan, bending his knees so he could let his feet rest on the mattress. 

“Yes.” Sherlock squeezed John’s arms, his cock pulsing despite the lack of attention. “More, John.”

John’s words, added to the teasing movement of John’s finger, were turning Sherlock into a quivering mess. He wanted to engrave John’s confessions into his memory, make sure he could always listen back to what John whispered on their first night. Sherlock clenched as John pushed his finger inside and Sherlock searched for John’s hand on the bed.

“I’m here,” John reassured him as he closed his hand over Sherlock’s. Everything in the room was spinning and a jolt of lust rolled through Sherlock as John added another finger, aiming directly for Sherlock’s prostate.

“John!”

“God, Sherlock, I want you so much.”

Sherlock couldn’t formulate any coherent response anymore, squeezing John’s hand and gasping loudly as a third finger breached him. He forced himself to open his eyes, making sure he could watch John as he prepared him, a concentrated look on his face. He was in control, making sure Sherlock was feeling good and Sherlock felt the urge to kiss him, right now. He needed to kiss this man who had called him amazing, who had saved him not even four hours ago. 

“John,” he managed to catch John’s eyes, “I want, please, I-”

John didn’t let him finish, crashing their mouths together for a burning kiss. Sherlock clutched at their intertwined fingers and began to move his hips, seeking more contact with John’s fingers still buried in him. Sherlock was certain he was going to combust. John broke the kiss and looked down at his fingers disappearing into Sherlock. “Fuck,” he swore and when Sherlock glanced at their joined bodies the sight was almost too much and he couldn’t help but beg.

“I’m ready, please, John.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yes,” John’s eyes were fixed on his, “I need you.” 

He undulated his hips and John’s moan was the only answer Sherlock needed. He tensed as John removed his fingers but soon he could feel the burning head of John’s cock right at his entrance. He began to push in and Sherlock kept his eyes on him, observing all of John’s reactions as he bore down on John’s length. The way John frowned, the intense look on his face, his steady hands on Sherlock’s hips, his breathing. All of it burned into his memory forever. 

John bent down for a kiss before nuzzling his head down Sherlock’s neck. Sherlock lifted his hands to John’s head, enjoying the feeling of John being entirely pressed against him. Sherlock felt a spike of bliss running through him. _This must be happiness_. John was still pushing inside him and soon they were completely joined. 

“I need a minute,” John murmured against his neck, “just a minute.”

“Alright,” Sherlock breathed out.

Sherlock let his hands travel on John’s back, his fingers sliding gently over his damp skin. He traced the contour of his scar, knowing he would have to ask John about it properly. He wanted to know everything there was to know about John Watson. Sherlock had to be the only person on earth to actually know everything about him. He kissed John’s neck, the only inch of skin he could reached, dragging his lips across the tender skin behind his ear. His fingers caressed him gently and without a word, in complete harmony, both of them began to move. The pace was slow, maybe too slow, but Sherlock loved every second of it. He could feel John’s muscles working under his hands and the slight burning sensation he had felt at first began to disappear, a consuming desire taking control of Sherlock’s mind and body. 

“John, _John._ ”

His lover’s name was all Sherlock could articulate, all other words and futile thoughts having faded away. John dropped his body even more and Sherlock felt his skin burning at every point of contact. His chest was rising faster and faster, John’s breath on his neck becoming erratic. They rocked together, balancing on the edge of a devastating pleasure. Sherlock dug his nails into John’s back, leaving traces Sherlock hoped would never disappeared. He let out a shuddering breath and wrapped his legs tighter around John, begging for more. 

“Harder,” he panted against John’s mouth and Sherlock was rewarded with a strong and deep thrust.

“Jesus, Sherlock!”

They were losing their rhythm, Sherlock’s moans becoming louder and louder with every thrust. John was shoving with force into him and Sherlock crushed their mouths back together. He felt John’s gasps and moans die between his lips and Sherlock knew he was close, too close. 

“John, I need-”

“Yes, yes.”

John cupped his erection, stroking it as he drove into him and Sherlock lost it completely. His body was trembling in John’s arms and he couldn’t stop crying out John’s name. The stimulation of John’s hand and the way he kissed Sherlock, nipping at his lower lips harshly, all of it was bringing Sherlock closer to the edge. John tightened his grip, still grounding them together with force. 

“John, I’m going to–” He didn’t manage to finish his sentence because John hit his prostate once more, and the fire that had been pooling in Sherlock’s low abdomen exploded. “John!”

He came between their bodies and John’s control shattered entirely, thrusting into Sherlock with abandon. Sherlock kissed him before whispering encouragement into his ears, _Yes John, come for me, yes._

“Oh God, Sherlock!” John cried out, going still above Sherlock.

None of them moved for a moment, the room silent except for the wet noise of their kissing. Sherlock couldn’t decide if he wanted John to stay inside him forever, or if he had to let John go just so they could start all over again.

Before he could make a decision, Sherlock fell asleep, a warm hand caressing his hair.

*

John woke up not knowing where he was. The room around him wasn’t familiar and the bed sheet too soft to be his own. It was only when he heard a regular breathing next to him that the events of last night came back to him. He turned around too fast and felt a bit dizzy when he faced a sleeping Sherlock Holmes next to him. John’s eyes landed on the purple mark on Sherlock’s neck and he smiled, feeling prouder than he should. As if Sherlock knew John was pleased with himself, he snuggled closer, his head almost colliding with John’s chest.

John thought of his small apartment, his belongings still unpacked, and Mrs. Hudson words. _I guess the second bedroom will remain empty after all._

“You’re awake,” Sherlock’s voice was still sleepy and John got more comfortable, his head just in front of Sherlock’s.

“Morning,” he whispered and Sherlock opened his eyes slightly. 

“Good morning.”

They stared at each other for a moment, none of them moving. John’s want to kiss the man was growing stronger but he waited for Sherlock to make a move. He was certain their night together would not be the only one, but he didn’t want to push his luck too far. Sherlock glanced at his mouth and John’s smile grew wider. 

“Did you sleep well?” John asked innocently, barely keeping his hands to himself. 

Sherlock only hummed his response, his eyes detailing John’s face. He could feel Sherlock’s breath and John moved his head even closer until their noses were brushing against each other. John wanted to tell him how much last night had been amazing, how he wished they could stay in this bed all day but he needed to let Sherlock decide for them. John knew he wanted to be with this mad man, he wanted all his dangerous adventures, the cases, the messy flat and the life Sherlock Holmes promised him. 

“John,” Sherlock murmured, the words caressing John’s lips. A smile bloomed on his lips too and John realised Sherlock had just deduced what he was thinking about. “Kiss me.”

“Amazing,” John breathed as he obeyed.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading !!


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